Bloodhearts

Chapter two: Out.

I blink, somehow able to collect my thoughts faster than the living. I bend my knees, eyes narrowing. A snarl works its way up my throat. I am on guard because I know not to trust the living to do anything but put a bullet in me. It makes the four living near me visibly uncomfortable. I know they're scared of me. But I don't understand what they want and I am not prepared to let them take me down. Fear is the only advantage I have to work with. I'll take what I can get.

There are three trigger-happy males and one female. She moves around nervously. She's got something hidden in her pocket and a gun in her other hand. She doesn't like it when I glare at her.

"Let's just drop this, okay? I can't do it." Even as she says it, she's still pointing her weapon at me like her three companions. Her eyes catch mine for a split second and she nearly cries.

I can just imagine how her heart will be beating faster and faster right now...

"We have to," a guy counters. "You said you needed a specimen."

I choose to stare at him next. He wants to be the big protector and has the muscles for the job. But he can't look at me either. None of them can. They look slightly pale as well. Like me. Perhaps they haven't had a close encounter with someone like me before. Or maybe they haven't pulled a trigger before. That would be an advantage for me.

"Yeah, but I can't when he looks like... you know," the female continues. "Let's just finish this mission, please! What if there are more of them around? I can't do this, I can't."

"Of course there are more around, they're everywhere!" the male says and the argument continues.

The two other living move closer to me and I snarl again to make them keep their distance. Their response is to charge their weapons. I keep quiet then. I can't jump them without getting shot. There's no way I can escape without it involving my permanent death. And I'm not letting that happen.

I decide to play nice and let them get a sense of superiority. It's like luring a kid into a candy shop. I lure them with the safety of control. I might be dead, but I'm not stupid. My chances of getting through this are better if I play along. For now.

"I think we should take him with us. But we have to move! Now!" the second male declares. I can hear the desperation in his voice and he's the only one who dares to look at me properly.

It's like I forget about the guns pointed at me when I get a good look at him. He's the leader. I can see it in the way the others obey his orders, how they respect him. He's strong too, stronger than the other male and there's something about him. He's curious and I don't see the same shock in his eyes.  Not anymore. This is the first time I've been in the company of four living for so long without trying to eat them. It's new for me. I have to admit I prefer this to the boneys.

To my surprise, I see the female - whom I learn is called Sadie - put a hand on the leader's shoulder. "I know what you're thinking, but it can't be. We all saw what happened that day," she says more persistently this time, her eyes falling on me for a moment, before she makes sure to look away again.

"I don't care," he replies and he glances at me again. "We are bringing him with us. And that's an order. You can use him or not. It's your choice." As soon as he says that the others comply, but hesitantly.

"We need to get out of here!" the other male yells. "Now, Cory! There are more coming!"

Cory.

I like that name. It's simple and something I think I could manage.

"Move, you rotten bastard," the other guy says and pushes me forward with his gun. I growl at him and he replies by pushing me again. I am forced to move down the street and turn to less open areas, down an old alley way.

"Cory, we can't take that thing with us!" Sadie insists as we walk, almost breaking into a run. "The similarity is too big. He looks like--"

"It doesn't matter who it looks like! It's a zombie! Why do we have to haul this thing along, why not just shoot it?!" the other guy continues impatiently.

He glares at me, too, and I just glare right back. He'll get what's coming to him.

Before the argument between the living can evolve any further, Cory makes a quick decision.

"We won't kill him," he says. "And we will finish the mission, Jason. There's a cage inside our hideout. We can bring him there. I think he's a good choice, Sadie." He looks at the female who swallows noticeably.

"Have you lost you mind, Cory?" the other male - whose name is apparently Jason - exclaims and the third male agrees. He's been quiet the whole time, hiding behind his gun. Well, quiet until now. He makes sure to give me a contemptuous looks as he speaks. I don't learn what his name is. Not that I even care.

Cory only sighs. "Just do it?"

A small grimace resembling a smile forms on my lips. I can't help it. The looks on those two other guys' faces are just too priceless. Cory's voice is like a soft melody in my head. My own is more like a bad composition of coughs and choking noises. I wish I could talk to him. It would make everything easier right now. Not that I know what I would say.

"What the hell; is that thing smiling?" the guy called Jason says with a frown.

I snort in response.

Now, all four of them stare at me, wide-eyed.

I don't like the nickname 'thing'. I let them look me over and stare as much as they want because I'm too tired to deal with any of it. I even let them put handcuffs and tie me up without a struggle. They argue some more over me and what way to take. I stare blankly ahead, sometimes sneaking a glance at their leader. They don't notice.

I get a push from the barrel of a gun to start moving forward. I hunch, not liking how they treat me one bit.

They drag me in a completely different direction than I expect and I get confused; we aren't moving into the city, but not out either. We don't meet any other dead. These living must have luck on their side. To do this is dangerous on so many levels for me, for the living. If the boneys see me like this, they'll definitely eat me. I should kill these living, any sensible zombie would. Instead, we're walking in the middle of what used to be a busy city street, one of the major veins connecting the heart of the city. Now, the place is filled with abandoned cars and whatnot. There are a few skeletons too, the kind that won't move ever again. You know, the really dead ones.

Further ahead, I smell the remains of a recently deceased. The meat is still so fresh it burns my insides - and we are moving straight towards it.

Oh man.

I fight to keep myself in line, but as we pass by the corpse, my eyes widen. I am so hungry. I growl, turning towards the dead body as we pass it. Surprisingly, no one stops me from devouring it, so I eat until my cravings are dulled and I can think straight again. My face gets soaked in blood and when I finish and I've made one hell of a mess.

"Get up," a cold voice orders and I rise up slowly with a gun pointed at my back. A cold drop of blood runs down my cheek....

... wait, did I say cold?

Jason, the guy guarding me, gets impatient. "I'm starting to have serious doubts about this idea, sir," he informs Cory. I look around and see all of the living looking sick to their stomachs.

But I'm a corpse. They don't understand. I need to eat to survive.

Cory doesn't reply to Jason's comment. Other zombies are approaching, so Cory yells for everyone to move quickly. He waves us inside a battered ruin.

I hesitate to follow them inside, but I am left no choice when the gun pushes me inside the building. I catch Cory's eye. He looks at me with a strange mix of what I believe to be sorrow and something else as if he's facing the most terrifying ghost. Maybe that's not so far from what I am now. We exist, but not much more than that.

Once inside, everyone tries to hide, but other zombies have entered from behind and the ruin we're standing in is about to buck from the pressure. The living yell at each other and try to find a way back out. Cory stays behind, making sure everyone's out when I catch his eye again. At that exact moment, the building collapses on our heads.

The world is on its way out, they say.